A Million Little Pieces

I finished this book last night with mixed emotions. It is widely known that Mr. Frey was accused of embellishing and/or fabricating many of the core details of his “memoir,” and I was aware of the controversy before I read the first page. Many other readers were not – they read every page believing it to be part of the actual harrowing truth of a drug-ravaged addict fighting for his life.

I still read the book with great interest and took it for what it has now been reported to be – a realistic depiction of what a near-death alcoholic and drug addict might go through in rehab.

I must not be alone, because after all the controversy regarding the truth of Frey’s account, the publisher offered to reimburse anyone who felt defrauded by the book’s categorization as a memoir. Although Random House set aside $2.35 million for lawsuits, only 1,729 readers came forward to receive a refund for the book. The refund offer was extended to anyone who had purchased the book prior to Frey disclosing the falsehoods therein. The total amount paid in refunds was $27,348.

My mixed emotions were the following:

1. Did I enjoy the book because I believed it to be a work of partial-fiction?

2. Would I have enjoyed the book more had I believed it to be non-fiction? (having no knowledge of the memoir controversy).


Fresh off of reading the book I’d say that I never would’ve believed it to be truly non-fiction in the first place. First off, and one of the issues openly admitted by Frey, is the issue of his hard-core toughness. Thankfully he acknowledged that he unrealistically built himself up to be “Mr. Badass,” because if he hadn’t I would be sincerely embarrassed for him.

Second, there were way to many holes in his recollections and WAY too many scenarios that only a complete idiot would accept as fact.

I’m having a hard time coming up with examples of his ridiculous tales, only because most of them are far too vulgar to post here. However, while I’m not male and haven’t been in many physical fights, I must say that if I were male, a 5’10” 150+ pound 23-year-old wouldn’t send me into panic mode. In fact, I don’t know if the aforementioned would send my 5’6” 122 pound female self into panic mode. It probably should, but I’m thinking nah.

Anyway, I enjoyed AMLP, but with a few aversions:

1. The writing style is TERRIBLE. Frey randomly capitalizes words inappropriately; the rules of punctuation are completely ignored; and run-on sentences are his bread and butter. Seriously, if you remotely lose your place you'd never know because most of his inner dialogue is repetitive gibberish.

2. The chapters are phenomenally long, and there are no "stopping places" to alleviate that fact. I don't have as much of a problem with that as some, but that doesn't make it any less annoying.

3. The back cover reads, "At the age of 23, James Frey woke up on a plane to find his four front teeth knocked out, his nose broken, and a hole through his cheek. He had no idea where the plane was headed or any recollection of the past two weeks..." Yet the cause of those injuries are never explained. They are vaguely alluded to after a conversation he has with a friend while in the treatment facility, but never explained. I realize that Frey may still have no memory of that incident, but I would've appreciated a more detailed acknowledgement of such lack of memory and/or further explanation of how he ended up in rehab. (Obviously he belonged in rehab, so I don't mean the no-brainer explanation. If he was truly as hard-core as he depicts himself, I would assume there was some kind of "defining" moment that lead him to rehab. The book doesn't explain that).

4. Several passages made me truly sick to my stomach, examples follow:

a. I'd like to believe that the root canal procedure with no anesthesia was fabricated (I can't imagine either my father or brother - both dentists - ever doing anything so barbaric no matter the circumstances).

b. One of Frey's repetitive self-punishments involved him ripping off one of his toenails. I skipped more than three pages due to their gory description of his self-mutilation. I was gagging on the elliptical machine. There is absolutely no convincing argument I can imagine for including such a painstakingly detailed account of one's removal of a completely intact toenail by an obviously sick individual.

Bottom line: I recommend this book. I enjoyed it. As I said earlier, I don't know how I would feel had I believed it to be complete non-fiction. Nonetheless, the story is truly sad and surprisingly uplifting. I particularly respect Frey's adamant refusal to adopt "the 12 steps." He rebelled against the norm and found his own path to healing.

James Frey has reportedly never relapsed.